John had always hated toes.

Maybe it came from the days when he was very little and Harry had pushed her muddy feet into his face to keep him away from her.

Yes, he loathed those bizarre bits of flesh and skin.

Until the long and frankly beautiful toes of Sherlock Holmes had entered his life.





Sherlock saw John's stubby toes curl into the carpet; he heard the shag rustle as his nails raked through the fibres.
The detective froze. Since when had his flatmate picked up this habit of bare-footedness?

Sherlock took a large gulp of tea and nearly choked as John's bare toes appeared, wriggling in his lap.

"What are you doing?" he croaked out.

The doctor smiled.
"Giving you a taste of your own medicine."

So that is it. The end.

What did you think? Utterly pointless I know but it kept me entertained for a few weeks. Hope it kept you entertained for a few minutes.

Thanks for reading.